


When Tensions Lessen

by Owlet (shinetheway)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinetheway/pseuds/Owlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is tense, and Blair helps him unwind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Tensions Lessen

## When Tensions Lessen

by Owlet

Author's homepage: <http://squidge.org/~theforest/senfic.html>

Disclaimers: These characters are not mine, never will be (but hey, I can dream, can't I! <g>) They belong solely to TPTB at Pet Fly and UPN. 

Notes: Okay, this was another IRC-written story (what can I say? I get inspired! :), and, like Lollipop (which this predates) it was in response to a suggestion by gila. Thank you so much for the audienceship and comments, criticisms, and encouragement of: Wolfling, Wanda, gila, Sorka, Vyola, mcvey, hooly, Strawberries, and Zeo! <hugs> Again, this is spell-checked but not beta-ed, and contains intimate (though non-sexual) situations between two men, so if that bothers you, don't read. Minors, this should be fine for you. :) Please, please, tell me what you think, good, bad, or indifferent. 

Summery: Jim is tense, and Blair helps him unwind 

Warnings: none: pre-slash 

* * *

When Tensions Lessen  
by Owlet 

It had been a long day. A ritual murder case had completely absorbed the entire department for nearly a week, and their first break had only come this afternoon. Rafe and Brown had gone to check out an unpromising lead, and returned to the station with an eyewitness who was willing to testify. Simon, in a uncharacteristic show of generosity for his exhausted people, had given Jim and Blair the rest of the afternoon off, and they had jumped at the offer. 

Jim walked across the parking lot to the truck, feeling like he had just run a marathon. Paperwork and dead-ends in a case could take it out of him like nothing else could, and this whole week had been one long dead-end. 

Blair walked alongside him, his normal exuberance muted to just a slight bounce as he moved. He had been working with Jim every day this week, trying to find new ways to gather evidence from crime scenes where there was none, taking some of the load of the paperwork off his roommate's exhausted shoulders. 

Unfortunately, Jim had only been getting tenser and tenser as leads grew slimmer and tempers grew shorter, and now Blair was beginning to seriously worry. Jim was staying very quiet, which probably didn't mean anything, but Blair suspected otherwise. Jim was being his normal stoic self, but he was also tired, tense, and frustrated. Blair looked sideways at the twitch in Jim's jaw, winced slightly, and began listing options in his mind to relax his stressed and weary Sentinel 

The problem was that he really didn't know Jim that well. They had been working together for just a few months, and he had no idea what the Sentinel considered relaxing. Music? Good food? A quiet evening at home? A massage? Hell, maybe Jim liked roller derbies, for all he knew. He was still trying to second-guess his partner when they reached the truck and Jim climbed in, then groaned softly. 

"Jim, what's wrong?" he asked. 

"Nothing." Blair gave him a skeptical look, and Jim shrugged. This time Blair noticed the small wince of pain, the slight lines of tension around his eyes and mouth. Jim was in definite pain here. 

"Look, it's nothing, okay, Sandburg? I'm just a little stiff. Too much riding a dek this week. No problem." Jim turned the ignition as Blair got in, then peeled out of the lot, driving much faster than usual. Blair didn't say anything, simply sat back, thinking furiously. 

Jim was a very active man; this week's forced combination of inactivity and a high degree of readiness must have torture for him. He felt a little of his ownenergy come back, and sat up straighter, smiling. Now he knew what he could do. He smiled a little wider as they pulled out of the parking garage and he began to plot. 

The ride to the loft was fast and smooth, and by the time they got there Blair's plans were made. The relief of finally having something to dothis week's inactivity hadn't been any easier on him, eitherhad revived him, and he was almost bouncing in his seat as they pulled up to the curb. Jim gave him a pained look. 

"Look, Chief, I don't know how you can stand to have so much energy, but can you give it a rest? It's been too long a week, and I'm really tired." 

Blair nodded eagerly and almost leaped out of the truck. Somehow he managed to restrain his enthusiasm until they were inside, then he struck, with all the subtlety he could manage. 

"Hey, Jim, why don't you go sit down? Have a beer, watch the news, just relax. I'll do dinner." 

From the deadpan look Jim gave him, he wasn't being spectacularly successful in the attempt. 

"Okay, Chief, what are you planning? 'Cause if you're trying to butter me up for some more tests, you're out of you mind." Jim gave him a glare and stalked into the kitchen for the promised beer. 

Blair hesitated, then followed Jim into the kitchen. "Actually, no, I wasn't," he said quietly. "You're right, I was planning something, but it wasn't tests. I was trying to think of some way to help you unwind. I thought if you had some rest, not have to worry about anything here, maybe I could get you to accept a massage for your shoulders." Jim shot him a startled glance, and Blair grimaced. "Look, man, I can _see_ how wound up you are--if you don't relax, you're going to pull something." 

He was intent, uncharacteristically still as he tried to get his point across. "I just want to help, Jim." 

Jim was stunned. He'd had no idea. He flushed slightly, and felt some of the ever-present tension fade away slightly at Blair's steady regard. Not enough, by any means, but enough to let him see the sense of Blair's suggestion--and see the extreme his temper had been driven too. He sighed, and reached to gently cuff Blair's head. 

"If you're willing to give me a massage, then I'm grateful," he said finally. "I know I've been a bear lately, but--I'm sorry. That would be great, Chief." 

Blair hesitated for a long minute, making sure Jim was serious, then grinned. "C'mon, big guy, let's go upstairs and get you comfortable." 

Jim arched an eyebrow, smirking as Blair practically bounced across the living room to the stairs and charged up them. "The last person who said that to me was a lot prettier, Chief," he called, grinning as Blair reappeared over the railing and glared briefly before disappearing again. 

He followed at a more leisurely pace, listening to Blair rummaging around in his nightstand. _Why doesn't it surprise me that he knows where I keep my massage oil?_ he reflected. _After all, he knows so much else about me._ For some reason his bad mood had almost evaporated, and the tension in his aching shoulders was somehow more bearable. Maybe it was the knowledge that Blair was waiting for him, and that relief and rest was only a few steps away. 

Blair had everything set up by the time he got upstairs, and was standing patiently beside the bed. Jim eased his shirt off cautiously and slid onto the bed with a hiss at the strain of complaining muscles. Blair immediately perched on the bed eside him, drizzling oil along the contours of his shoulders and back, smoothing it in well before beginning the massage. He rubbed his shoulders with long, slow strokes, long fingers finding and soothing the worst knots in the rock-hard muscles. Jim jerked, then sagged into the mattress as the tension flowed away, the stress and anxiety of the whole wretched week leaving him under Blair's strong, sure hands. He sighed, arching slightly, and then just lay still, enjoying the bliss of comfort at last. 

Blair carefully poured more oil onto his hands, rubbed them together, and stroked them across Jim's skin again, searching out all the worst spots and concentrating on them. The fresh mint scent of the oil combined with Jim's own scent to make a heady mixture, and Blair found himself dizzy from breathing it. He shifted once, uncomfortably, but continued to stroke and knead the firm, warm muscles. 

After a long, long interval, he straightened. Jim was asleep, and Blair found himself strangely reluctant to stop stroking the smooth planes of Jim's back. He didn't know what was happening, but he decided it didn't matter. For the first time in a week, Jim's face was free of tension--and Blair was able to relax to. His own exhaustion surged up to meet him, refusing to be put off any longer, and with a sigh he gave in. His legs folded and he curled up onto the bed. Within seconds he was fast asleep. 

Within seconds he was fast asleep. And in his sleep, Jim reached out and pulled him into the crook of his arm. The two slept that way the rest of the evening and into the night, side by side. 

* * *

End When Tensions Lessen.

 


End file.
